"What is it then?"
"Tubercular tenements."
"What?"
"It's a building where the poor, who either have or are going to have tuberculosis, can get as much air and light as the rich will let them."
"It sounds terribly socialistic."
"It's terribly individual."
Margaret straightened and locked down with a glance that reached him from the far citadel of pride to which she retreated when she was not sure whether he was making fun of her.
"Who's putting up the money? It's not just building itself, I suppose."
Gregory laughed outright, for he saw Dr. Mary and Jean and himself standing at the table, that first night six weeks ago.
"It's got to be raised yet."